How the Skeith Stole Christmas
by Mynxine
Summary: All the players down in Mac Anu liked Christmas a lot. But the Skeith, who lived just north of the Aqua Capital, did NOT.'(RR)(Chapter 2 up)
1. Chapter 1

**How the Skeith Stole Christmas!**   
**_Written by: Mynxine_**

  


_Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue. Aaamen. Maha, Skeith, and all other .hack characters belong to Bandai. The original story, 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas', belongs to Dr. Seuss and I have altered some of the words to fit my parody.   
Happy reading, folks._   
~*****~   


_"Every Player down in Mac Anu liked Christmas a lot...   
But the Skeith, Who lived just north of Mac Anu, Did NOT!"_

And who could blame him? He paced about on the top of a rather tall building overlooking the Aqua Capital, miserly plotting death, destruction, and all around not-niceness. 

A violet and white cat clothed in peasant-wear floated behind him, crossing its' arms and grinning in that enigmatic way it did. Twisting his head in a near-180 degree angle to glare at the creature good-and-proper-like, Skeith snapped, "What, pray tell, are you grinning at?" 

"..." The feline replied, doing an abominably cute flip and resuming its' original posture. Its' tail flicked once into the position of a curly-Q before flicking to the side. The cat was like that; blissfully unaware of things going-on about it, and determined to drag others down with it. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it. With this in mind, it mouthed words to the Terror of Death and floated around him, delighting in the fact that his head could twist like an owls'. 

Skeith squelched at Maha. "Well I'm glad **someone's** enjoying themselves." He gestured with his staff towards the happy little denizens of Mac Anu. "Why don't you go join the party?" 

"..." It winked it's left eye, completing the star that made up the pattern of its' fur. Again, it spoke soundless words. 

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, you-you-" Flustered by the insult only he had heard, he searched for a comeback. "You Christmas loving pansy cat!" 

"..." 

"It was the best I could do on short notice." 

_"The Skeith hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!   
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.   
It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right.   
It could be, perhaps, that his gauntlets were too tight."_

Skeith scratched at his gauntlets, muttering to himself and plucking Maha up by the scruff to show it the sights. "I hate Christmas! Because you know what people get on Christmas?" He snarled as Maha was brought around as if on the arm of a crane. 

"...?" It took a wild guess. 

"Well, I suppose they do get many small playthings. But that's not what I meant!" He shook the cat around for emphasis. "They get swords! Staffs! Large, deadly, pointy things!" With his free arm, he placed his claws, palm down, on his armored chest. "Though I can't be killed, especially not by that band of merry idiots, they could cause scratches, gashes, slashes!" 

Maha did its best to look horrified, but it was feeling rather sick from the jostling around. It struggled to get out of the practical death-grip the Phase had upon its person. Being in hiding, it decided, was no fun when the only person to hide with was worried more about his armor than the well-being of the small fuzzy chap in his clutches. It hissed silently under its breath as Skeith lifted it up to eye level. 

"You're not being very empathetic, you know." 

_ "But I think that the most likely reason of all...   
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small."_

Maha made flailing motions as it was dropped to float once again in the air. However, in one quick motion Skeith struck a golf-like pose, his staff going up...and swinging back down, connecting with the purple feline's head and sending it flying into the nearest building. 

Several players looked up and wondered where the shooting star had come from. And in the middle of the day no less! But as quickly as Maha hit the building, it disappeared-how dare Skeith risk it being seen! Silent name-calling would follow. 

_"So whatever the reason, which was lost on the surveyors,   
He stood there on Christmas Eve HATING the players."_

Which he did with gusto. Maha stood behind him, making rude gestures as he muttered to himself about doom, the death of millions and whatnot. 

_"Staring down from the building with a sour, Skeithy frown,   
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.   
For he knew every player in the Aqua Capital beneath   
Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath."_

Delighted with herself, Mistral threw a wreath around Kites' neck. "There! Add some green and you're Christmas itself! :D" She did this to many other players; no one paid her any mind. It was the season to be enjoying yourself after all; who could care if a peppy wavemaster throttled you with a semi-poisonous plant fashioned into an o-shape? Twas the season! 

Kite laughed weakly before slipping the wreath over his neck and hanging it on the wall in front of him. "On the wall, Mistral." He shouted over to the physical embodiment of a sugar high, as she throttled a nameless Blademaster with the festive ornament. 

Elk stood around, shuffling his feet every so often. "Has anyone seen Mia?" BlackRose, who had been flirting with a long-arm participating in the festivities, turned to look at the shy young boy. "Hmmm...no. I can't say that I have. She's been acting odd lately..." 

"...Yeah. I was hoping this festival might cheer her up." 

"I'm sure she'll show up!" A cockney voice squeaked as an arm was thrown around Elks shoulders. Rachel grinned, "But for now, just have fun! Tons of things to do, tons of ways to make money!" 

"Heh.Yeah..." The blue-clad wavemaster tried to dislodge himself from Rachels' strong (yet painstakingly friendly) grip on his upper torso. "Okay..." 

"And they're hanging their stockings!"_ the Skeith snarled with a sneer,_   
"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!" 

"..." 

"I'll tell you what the big deal is, Maha. If they get those nice, pointy, and high-level weapons, it's curtains!" He thought about this for a moment, fingering an imaginary beard, "Well, for you anyway. I'm the Terror of Death, omnipotent, undead and all that rot. You, however, are a mere feline sent to bask in my glory." How he loved the sound of that and how he loved to gloat! Being the first in a long line of siblings and the one his 'mother' had given the pretty red wand to; his ego had swollen to the rough size of an old barn. 

Maha wasn't going to burst his bubble by telling him that it was the Sixth Phase and inherently more powerful than he. Who needed a girly-wand? It beamed a smile at him and he immediately glared back. 

"Don't know what you're so cheerful about." He said slowly, resuming his glaring at the people down below. 

_"Then he growled, with his Skeithy fingers nervously drumming,"_   
"I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!" 

_"For tomorrow, he knew all the players, girls and boys,   
Would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!   
And then! Oh, the noise!   
Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!"_   
"That's one thing I hate! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!" 

Skeith banged his head into the concrete side rails of the building-top. Maha winced sympathetically. "..." 

"Do you have any idea," He paused to say in-between good-natured blows to the skull, "How much the noise of those freaks bugs me? They think they're so smart with their 'vocal chords' and their 'advanced thought.'" During this ranting, he added quotes with his second and third claw of both hands. His wand floated complacently behind him, waiting, watchful. "There will be tons of them here tomorrow! And do you know what humans get for Christmas, my disgustingly-fuzzy little companion?" He had slunk creepily over to Maha and stood directly behind her, a 'ping' noise accompanying his movements. "THEY GET COPIES OF THIS GAME! N00BS ABOUND!" 

Skeith was lucky the rooftop was so high up. Otherwise, the hundreds below would have heard his manic screaming, ranting, and otherwise whining. What did they hear? The wonderful background music of the Aqua Capital, of course! 

_"And THEN They'd do something he liked least of all!   
Every player down in the Aqua Capital, the tall and the small,   
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.   
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the players would start singing!_

Blame the administration, of course. It had been their idea to hold a karaoke contest on Christmas day, and give out (and I quote), "Fabulous, humongous prizes to amaze you and your friends! SIGN UP NOW!" 

_"They'd sing! And they'd sing! And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!   
And the more the Skeith thought of this Whole-Christmas-Sing,   
The more the Skeith thought,_ "I must stop this whole thing!"   
"Why, for almost two years I've put up with it now!   
"I MUST stop this Christmas from coming!" 

And with a baleful gaze at Maha, he snarled, "But how?"   
  
~******~ 

R/R. Next Chapter: Skeiths' Plan gets underway! 


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow. Chapter 2, already. :D First, to the reviewers!   
Spanner -- Thank you so much for the compliment to the story! X3 I never thought I'd get a review, really. >D And soon, Skeithy will be a house-hold word!   
Zazie the Beast -- Thanks for loving the story. ^-^ And yup, I did notice that mistake with the words in the first chapter, but I can't fix it now, I'd have to re-upload the entire thing. o_o'' So, it stays. But thanks for pointing that out.   
Stone -- ^_^ I'm glad my parody isn't one of the bad ones. Thanks for the compliment.   
You're all great! :D I shower you with cookies!   
But now on to why you're all here. Chapter two!_

  
~*****~ 

** The Skeith Who Stole Christmas! Chapter: Two**

_They'd sing! And they'd sing! And they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!   
And the more the Skeith thought of this Whole-Christmas-Sing,   
The more the Skeith thought,_ "I must stop this whole thing!"   
"Why, for more than two years I've put up with it now!   
"I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! BUT HOW?!" 

Lately, Skeith had begun to grade his days in various degrees of 'suck'. Yesterday had moderately sucked. The day before had been breezy with a light chance of sucking. But today, today was off the charts. As he paced around the rooftop pondering this, Maha happily drew pictures of the Christmas variety upon the slate. It was currently using Skeith's staff to carve Rudolph next to an intricately decorated sleigh. Behind the sleigh was the kind of background Thomas Kinkade would have gaped at. Wonderful Fir trees, decorated with tinsel and small spherical ornaments created a background fit for a holiday paradise. Maha had always been the artistic type. 

Skeith floated over and eyed the carving as if it were infectious. "You're very low for morale, Maha." He added, rather morose about the illustration in general. He grabbed his staff back from the cat and went to lacerate the face of the cheery-eyed Santa in the corner. Poised above it like a man preparing to carve a Christmas-day ham, he raised the staff... 

_Then he got an idea! An awful idea! The Skeith got a WONDERFUL, AWFUL idea!_

...And abruptly stopped his proposed mutilation of everyone's favorite fat gentleman. Maha meanwhile had been trying to stop him, even going to lengths to cover the carving with its body. Van Gogh suffered for his art, why shouldn't it? Though it would be losing considerably more than an ear. It winced up at the Terror of Death. "...!" 

Could he have grinned a murderous grin he would have. "I've decided to spare your childish etching, feline." He practically purred, the staff moving about ten feet away from its' intended target. "For you see..." 

"I know just what to do!"_The Skeith laughed in his throat._   
"And I'll made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat!" 

He looked around for fabric and, for that matter a sewing machine. This was a knot in his plans. "Hm." He glanced at his genderless companion. "I'm at a loss. Where did you get your clothing?" 

"..." It replied. 

"I don't have enough money to go to a department store." He scratched at his head, looking around as if some solution would present itself. 

Down below, Moonstone watched the festivities with something less than the enthusiasm of the dead. He crossed his arms and fingered the crimson fabric that he had chosen for his avatar. "Stupid." He finally murmured, glaring at a newly hung stocking. 

Maha, peering over the mortar and brick of the rooftop, observed the bright red that was Moonstone's attire. The fellow didn't have a hat, but Skeith really didn't need matching pants anyhow. Grinning enigmatically, it hovered over to its comrade, dragging him by the armored arm to point and gesture down at the quiet twinblade. 

"Eh?" His head tilted towards the cat and his non-existent eyes narrowed. "You want me to mug him of his clothing?" 

It nodded. 

"Why, that's despicable, Maha! A disgusting thing to think about doing! Why, the poor boy wouldn't stand a chance against the two of us, and if anything he would be left quaking in terror!" 

A sublimely evil chuckle followed. "I love the way you think." 

And so, Maha floated down about 20 feet away from the crowds. It looked about for some means to attract Moonstone's attention; a small, pixilated pebble looked up to the task. Grasping the object in its palm, she wound up like a pitcher and let it fly. 

Thock! He growled and quickly pivoted around, ready to attack his tormentor. "Pain." He snapped, glaring at the purple and ivory feline, which was currently making rude hand gestures to him. "Doom!" He snarled in warning to it, raising one blade before charging. 

A mute squeak and a great deal of drifting later, Maha had led the poor twin blade down the alley next to the Mac Anu magic shop. Stepping out of the shadows like the Terror of Death epithet he was known for, Skeith simply knocked Moonstone over the head. "...Surprise." Was all the twin blade was able to muster before the lights went out. 

Quick as a flash they made off with his attire. Both the Phase and the cat floated back up to their rooftop giggling like schoolchildren, albeit one mutely. 

_And he chuckled, and clucked,_ "What a great Skeithy trick!   
"With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!" 

He modeled in front of his only companion. "So, do I look Christmas-y enough to fool old Wenceslas himself?" 

Maha only made a giggling face and clapped its hands together, delighted. Skeith ran a scan through his own mental checklist of 'Things to do to Look like Santa and Fool the Stupid Mortals'. 

"All I need is a Grunty..."_ The Skeith looked around.   
But, since Grunties are scarce, there were none to be found.   
Did that stop the old Skeith...? No! The Skeith simply said,_   
"If I can't find a Grunty, I'll make one instead!" 

It definitely didn't like the sound of that. Not at all! A fearful look replaced the giddy one as the cat began to back away from its grinning, red-clad companion, who held in one claw red string, and in the other the head off a Golden Grunty. 

"Now don't make this difficult, fuzzball." 

"...! ...! ...!" 

_So he tackled his friend Maha, then he took some red thread   
And he tied the fake Grunty plush on the top of its head.   
Then He handed it some bags, and an old empty sack   
To use on their item raid to carry on its back._

The Phase grinned, "Now it begins! My plan to-" Maha hushed him; he made the face of a scolded child. It pointed down to the streets of the Aqua Capital, where many had let their game idle as they went AFK to sleep. Next to each were stockings and boxes where, by the miracle of moderators and technology, gifts would go to greet the players once they resumed a less-idle state. "Rrgh. Fine." He snapped to his makeshift Grunty. "Now it begins!" He whispered to the sky (but mostly himself), "My plan to ruin Christmas for all the noisy jerks who ruin my life! I'll steal their Christmas and make them rue the day they crossed blades...and staffs and stuff...with the Terror of Death!" 

Maha wondered to itself why Skeith made this difficult. Couldn't he just data-drain the whole lot of them? Perhaps he found this sort of revenge a bit more fun. It shrugged. Evil villains made such a drama of it all... 

_Then the Skeith whispered,_ "Giddap!"_ And they both started down   
Toward the streets where the players stood AFK in their town..._

~*****~   
  
R/R. Next Chapter: Thievery runs rampant as Skeith does his dirty work. Stay tuned! 


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